50 Last Requests
by PureWaterLily
Summary: Because it is only courteous to give your best friend at least two months notice of his imminent death. ShiIta/ItaShi. Crack.
1. Well Shit

Uchiha Shisui, a teenager of many monikers (mainly Shisui of the Body Flicker, Shisui of the Mirage, and Mr. Good-Looking), is a marginalized side character who appears for a total of... one panel and has several notable canonic and fanonic features: physics-defying _and_ genetics-defying hair, haxxed up eyeballs that scream _Inception!_, speed on par with the shinobi of Kumo, a personality as aromatic as a pound of chakra-leeching fish guts, and looks as appealing as a pound of _handsome _chakra-leeching fish guts, thus serving as every fish gutter's wet dream.

Non sequiteur aside, Shisui has some less remarkable traits as well: a rabid collector of anything inanimate, a habitual toe-nail chewer, a partying drunk that will screw anything animate, an "accidental" fire-burner of all paperwork, and the most intellectual moron in existence, with a logic that makes all rationality spontaneously combust into imaginary root pies.

Hence, that is why when Uchiha Itachi (whose existence, by the way, got Shisui that one panel mentioned earlier so maybe we should have mentioned him first...) struts into his office, water-jutsus him awake, and calmly states, "Shisui, I have just received orders to decrease your lifespan to 5,670,400 seconds, starting now," all Shisui does is stare at his best friend with an outrageous hangover, a blank stare, and an incredibly redundant, "Well... shit."

This is then followed by a very grim and serious, "Wait, you're paying for the funeral, right? Because you know I'm broke, and my ma ain't paying for crap."

* * *

><p>Uchiha Itachi is a pre-teen of no monikers, because anyone who has ever tried to start one, from Ita-kun to Fucking-Smartass-Prick, has suffered a ridiculously improbable and highly painful death that by no means can be pinpointed to sweet, life-loving, violence-hating, adorable little weasel-chan-<p>

…

(The previous writer was incapable of handling the unadulterated mental image and thus died howling on the floor, with a split gut and every brain cell simultaneously undergoing necrosis.)

…

Uh anyways, if you're reading this story, you probably know about Itachi, so to waste precious word space failing to describe Itachi... or writing about failing to describe Itachi... or writing about writing about failing to describe Itachi is utterly pointless.

However, three characteristics that must be emphasized for the sake of the flow and sanity of this fic is 1. his high intelligence and rationality, 2. his deeply bromatic relationship with his best friend, and 3. his politeness and curtsey that mostly stemmed from an Uchiha tradition of thou-shall-kill, thou-shall-commit-incest, but thou_-shall-NOT-shame-the-clan._

So when you mix those three, then chuck in some thirteen years of severe sleep-deprivation, unyielding stress, and gods, the emergence of _hormones_, you get one composed Itachi professionally giving Shisui binders after binders of everything from financial spread sheets to self-help passages on dealing with psychological trauma and grief, all in between bites of tea cakes at their usual table in Dangoya.

After all, Itachi has concluded that it is incredibly cruel and inhumane to let awkwardness, discomfort, or fear prevent him from warning Shisui, an action which might let him savor the remaining two months or so of his life left. Alternatively, this provides an excellent chance for any objections from said best friend, such as on the execution of his execution. Or maybe Shisui can even propose an overlooked solution that might prevent the entire massacre, because let's face it, Shisui's fucking damn smart when he wants to be... which is never, because smartness is for douchebags, so this will serve as another meaningless filler sentence.

And it is somewhere between their quite-sane discussion on the coffin's color (flamingo pink, because it complements his eyes) and Shisui's preferred method of asphyxiation (drowning, because it's totally not fair unless Itachi suffers agonizing guilt alongside him) that Shisui's logic return from its extended vacation, only to gasp horror and flee, causing a temporary lapse of overwhelming reason and reasonable behavior.

Meaning, Shisui stops nodding in agreement and sipping on his strawberry-kiwi milkshake with content, in favor of paling over, abruptly standing up, and screaming, _"KILL ME?_ WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!" This, accompanied by a tossing of all the meticulously researched papers in all possible two dimensional vectors.

But, once again, it is only temporary, and a nanosecond later, Shisui blurts out, "You _dare _kill me before I lose my virginity?" Then to correct Itachi's raised eyebrow, "Those don't count! I mean to an actual vagina- err- woman!"

Thus, a contract is signed and '_Shisui's_ _50 things that must be accomplished before predetermined death_' list is generated. Let the chaos commence.


	2. A Probable Impossibility

**1:: Date with Yuuhi Kurenai**

Contrary to popular belief, Itachi is incapable of the impossible. Of course, what is defined to be impossible is highly subjective, and his range of impossibility is far narrower than yours, considering his ability to bend reality, create realities, and shatter existing ones, an enemy of everything from probability to the billion conservation laws you'll have to misfortune of learning in high school. Also, he totally outranks you in the complexity of his xanatos gambits, so anything that _does_ fall out of his range of power will still be subjected to partial manipulation.

All that said, number one is _impossible_, because Yuuhi Kurenai is voted the #1 hottest kunoichi of Konoha by Shinobi Magazine since the day she turned legal, with a startling victory of 99.9% of all hundred thousand votes. Physical attractions aside, the twenty-three year old is brilliant – brilliant enough to not squander off her youth on assassination missions, intense reconditioning therapy, and eternal angst. No, her teenage to adulthood years shall be on nonstop dates, parties, and clubs.

That is to say, she is sexy, witty, AND sociable, which makes approximately _99.999%_ of the shinobi population utterly out of her league, because how many chidori or shadow clones or kunai tricks you've got up your sleeve is the equivalent of walking up to that girl you really like at the Academy and wooing her with, "so... got a +25 dexterity Dragon Blade the other day..." or presenting her your nine-starred gold foiled Kyuubi trading card and wiggling your eyebrow suggestively.

These tactics are super-effective in charming the human _male _race. The girls, not so much. Plus, Kurenai has made it clear she's interested in funny, intellectual, mature men that could hold down both liquor and a decent conversation, not paranoid, insecure ninjas that are literally incapable of emoting and absolutely refuse to go on the dance floor because

1. close spaces + many people + sharp instinctive reflexes = a terrific combination for accidental deaths and

2. their training regiments never included nonsensical, superfluous body movements past hand signs (which extensive research has confirmed ARE nonsensical superfluous body movements, along with shouting of any and all battle cries, especially those named after yourself).

Oh, and Shisui's technically not above the age of consent, but that is the least of Itachi's concerns.

His primary concern is that while Shisui _is _sociable, _is_ somewhat attractive – to fish gutters in particular –, and _is _capable of emotions and humor, he can also be obnoxiously immature and irresponsible, with an ego that shattered the scale and a whole deck of _ten_-starred gold foiled trading cards ready for bragging.

Kurenai will not be impressed.

Still, Itachi has to try. And so, after an hour of stalking in the shadows of a bar he really, _really_ is too young to be in, he spies her most recent date getting up for more drinks.

One henge later, Itachi slides right in the booth.

As the lighting in the club is dim and Kurenai is a little intoxicated herself (the date is so foul that she needs alcohol to stop herself from committing seppuku), she chuckles to herself, leans across the table, and says, "A little too forward, don't you think, handsome?"

To which Itachi refrains from correcting the woman and decides to 'just go with it.'

"I wish to talk to you, Yuuhi-san."

Hearing his professional monotone, the expression on her face sours. "Is this about mission efficiencies?"

"No."

"Recon sabotages?"

"No."

"Elemental manipulations?"

"No."

"War, peace, politics, world domination, history lessons, governmental systems, penises, the ephemeral, the eternal, meaning of life, the circle of hatred, revenge, stalkerish love, parental neglect, Hokage-Hokage-Hokage?"

After Itachi glares at the returning date and effectively casts him away for an indefinite amount of time, he returns to his conversation partner and says, "How about comments of the weather, the local news, and contemporary culture? And if you are still willing to converse, of similar interests and intellectual discussions on topics such as philosophy, art, and literature."

"Spring..."

"Is most beautiful in Forrest."

"The latest uniform..."

"Is a horrible degradation in both appeal and quality."

"Sanbomusta..."

"As with all artists, their older works are more respectable."

"Would you like a..."

"A glass of cranberry juice. Yes. And you?"

"Who are you again?"

Itachi slides a note forward. "The only name you need to remember is Uchiha Shisui."

And thus, the gambit starts.


	3. Coma Inducing Epistaxis

**2:: A life-sized portrait of Shisui (in his underwear)**

_(Warning: lack of acquaintance with horrendous fillers shall leave one vulnerable to the _discombobulation virus strain_ upon exposure to this chapter. Symptoms: Large intangible question mark floating above head that may or may not fall and crack open skull. Treatment: wiki.)_

It's not every day a thirteen year old boy is squirming in chains, suspended above a bubbling lava pit, spitting out strings of colorful profanities at a hideous, hide-skinned psychological demontress with horns – no, that only happens every _other_ day. And today's a Wednesday, so we're not due yet.

"Fuck you!" screams the dangling thirteen year old boy. "Die you fucking asshole bastard and burn with all your fucking ancestors! All one hundred generations of 'em!" (Insert, "gotta kill 'em all" theme song here.)

"Are you done," the hideous, hide-skinned psychological demontess with horns questions calmly, her arms folded, watching the struggling figure with neither a rambling speech on the complexities of his madly genius plan to rule the world nor any sadistic laughs of unadulterated evilness. Disturbingly enough.

"No! Damn you, bitch! Let me down!"

"Are you ready to listen?"

As with most victims trapped in this dilemma, instead of a concrete yes or no, he resorts to the much classic,"Fuck off!" which may or may not assist the situation at hand.

"I guess not, then." The demontress makes herself comfortable on a nearby chair, crossing one leg over the other. "Tell me when you are."

A roar, followed by more struggling. Approximately five minutes later, all motions stop. Dark eyes makes contact with the large fleshy ones.

"What do you want, whore?"

Loosely interpreting that as "Yes, I will listen now," the demonstress snaps her fingers, and both the genjutsu and reverse-genjutsu fade away. The lava pit dissipates, as well as the endless length of chain and little devil cupids floating about. They return to a mundane studio room.

Itachi gets up from his chair and shows the defeated demon a war-torn photograph.

The horns shrink, fangs disappear, claws retract, and a small, confused, pale girl in her night gown stares at him, then at the photo.

"The boy on the left. Can you paint a portrait of him?"

"H-how did you know where to find me? Who are you?"

"That is irrelevant." Itachi looks up around the studio, at the numerous oil paintings. "What is important is that I found you, Yakumo Kurama-san. You are talented."

A flush. "Ah. Um-"

"Can you paint him," Itachi asks again.

"I... I g-guess. I like to paint... um..."

"I will reward you."

Brown eyes widen. "Ah... I... I don't..."

Itachi steps closer. "What would you like?"

The child timidly backs away until her back hits a painting. She looks up, then casts her head down, fingers fidgeting with her braid.

Itachi looks at the painting of a woman leaning against the window of an ivory room, curtains of golden hair pooling down to her feet. The model is obviously Kurenai, only with a waist trimmed down by approximately two inches to fit with contemporary ideals of feminine aesthetics (which, by the way, is utter bullcrap, argues Anko, leading figure in the feminist movement and vast consumer of gluttonous sweet products).

Having gone through a hundred clients, both male and female, with severe damsel-in-distress syndromes, who love nothing more than abusing their wealth and influence for fairy-tale lala fantasies with good-looking shinobi, Itachi simply states, "As you wish," all to familiar with the silent request. "As for the painting?"

She is shocked, but then dares to look up. "O-okay," she whispers, a healthier color tinting her cheeks.

But just as she accepts the photograph, Itachi adds something that has her nearly fainting, face turning a tomato crimson.

"I- I c-can... b-but..."

She stutters some more. "You see... n-new things... I can't draw from..."

She fidgets. "I-I have... never..."

"What is the problem?"

"I do not know what a boy looks like!" she finally blurts out, shielding herself with her arms.

"... And you will require a live model," Itachi extrapolates, his tone quite tired and deadpanned.

"I'm sorry," the girl cries out.

T minus 5,237,119.

T minus 5,237,118.

T minus 5,237,117.

Itachi closes his eyes. Maybe he shall just screw the high road (not that the career path of anassassin hasn't kicked him right off yet) and let the numbers dribble down to zero. That or...

"Will I do."

When the girl furiously nods her head, Itachi settles down on a chair and begins to remove his shirt, seriously reconsidering his hypocritical violence-free policy.

(Due to the sudden convenient death of the second author via prolonged coma-inducing epistaxis – aka, nosebleed - the new writer of this script will boycott the stripping scene, totally out of moral, nonfangirl-inclined reasons, and not out of fear for a ridiculously improbable and highly painful death that by no means can be pinpointed to Itachi-san... or anything. This author, however, is seriously not paid enough to narrate this crack.)


	4. The Triumph of Entropy

**3:: The complete annihilation of the police station (and all associated paperwork)**

Compared to the former two, Itachi is pleasantly surprised by the simplicity of task three. From now on, Thursday shall be marked as a wonderfully peaceful day to watch burning buildings from an overseeing cliff far, far away from the noise and commotion.

Kurama dashes up to him, breathing hard, brush in ear, easel in hand. "How was that?"

"Very artistic," Itachi compliments, offering a stick of dango. There are ways to destroy buildings: lightning, war, giant foxes. But this is his first time witnessing a plague of cutesy devil cupids that spontaneously combust upon contact.

"T-thank you," she murmurs, accepting the treat. "Thank you too for this... All of this."

"Fresh air and sunlight eases most ailments," he states. "You bottled your imaginary friend for too long. She would like to be outside as well."

"Y-you know of her?"

"We had a conversation."

"What did you two talk about?"

"Non-existent ancestral ties, job occupations, and female dogs."

"Oh. Cats are cute."

"Quite."

The girl stares down at her dango. "... sometimes, I don't like her very much. My friend, I mean."

"She will not be bother you for a while."

"How do you know?"

Because the balance between the three parts of the theoretical constructs called psyche was restored after a large exothermic reaction of double negative neurotic clashes that resulted in the physical manifestation of volcanic eruptions and torture devices, thus serving as a catalyst for the predominant apparatus to return to resume its implemented function.

…

"Trust me," Itachi reads from the hidden manual in his hand, then decides to skip Step Two, '_Now plant a fat, cheesy, shit-eating smile_.'

Kurama giggles and bites down on her dango. "Okay."

Horns, wails, and screams of terror can be heard in the distance. Many explosive diapers continue to soar the air. Thursday serves as a victorious day for entropy.


	5. Collapse of the Forth Wall

**4:: Run around the streets naked**

_(Warning: discombobulation virus is rampaging. Vaccine: the panacea of google.)_

"Whooooo! No more paperwoooooorrrrkkkkk!"

Itachi checks no. 4 off the list, pretends he has no relations to the buttnaked teen, and covers Sasuke's eyes on their way home from the Academy.

"Why do you even bother with that weirdo?"

"Sasuke, sometimes you will feel that your life is controlled by an amateur comedic-romance novelist who has no understanding of cause-and-effect, psychological norms, unfortunate implications, narrative aesops, nor elementary physics. I will tell you straightforwardly... that is not suppose to happen."

"What?"

"For example, any child with the barest knowledge of electrostatics... or say, gaming devices featuring idealized combatant organisms, knows earth grounds electricity..."

"We do?"

"Just remember: it's good to hug girls, it's bad to take drugs, and non-conductive rock always beats electricity."

"Nuh-huh! Rocks beat scissors!"

"And that is a lie."

"_What_?"

"You are deprived indeed. Come, Sasuke, let us enhance your childhood as much as possible before I send you into a spiraling vortex of eternal angst, depression, and rage that no amount of regular reconditioning therapy can ever hope to fix, except perhaps by the miracle of a two minute talk-no-jutsu delivered by one of your peers."

"Nii-san, you're talking weird today."

"Commendable induction, foolish little brother. Only a peer of your high intellect can realize that I am utterly out of character, and that this entire filler conversation is indeed a ploy to continue the cause-effect transitions that arcs together scenes, as well as to establish my deep, sexually-questionable, affection for you, according to an amateur comedic-romance novelist's understanding of the Uncertainty Reduction theory."

"Are you being sarcastic, nii-san?"

"I apologize. As I have been promoted to a main, reoccurring character, it is inevitable that I be used for pointless narration, flashback mediums, or remarkably redundant statements, especially in a story written by _this _poor amateur comedic-romance novelist, who, if he wishes to live, should stop utilizing my body for his own amusement."

"Ooh, ooh, nii-san! I hear your delusion too now. He tells me to tell you that if you don't wish to strip down and join your best friend on the streets, then stop breaking the forth wall and insulting his writing abilities."

"Tell him the laws of this universe will render any attempts futile, and will murder him if he tries."

"He tells me to tell you that his perverse sister of a replacement is dying for this job, and she is very willing to turn your sexually-questioning relationships with me and Shisui into not-so-questioning relationships anymore. Also, he asks why are you holding onto your shirt so tightly if his so-called attempts are futile?"

"Tell him that as the omnipotent, omniscient god of our realm who controls the very fabrication of existence, he enjoys this petty, pathetic quarrel with himself."

"He says touché."

"Whooooo! Ima traaaansitionnnn!"

Itachi peels his palm from his little brother's eyes and kneels down. "Forget all those unnecessary tangents. What I meant to say is, let's go to the game shop, Sasuke."

"I'm too _old_ for games, nii-san!" Sasuke pouts. "Besides... it's so... _far._"

"Piggyback?"

"Yay games!" Sasuke jumps on his brother's back and muzzles his nose in Itachi's neck. "Hm, and nii-san?"

"Yes?"

"Your delusion tells me to tell you that if enough reviewers say yes, he's forced to strip you for real in some future chapter."

"Tell him to stop breaking the fifth wall with his shameless advertising."


End file.
